great
kindness.

There then, I sat, when I had eaten, my ears pricked to listen for the
tramp of armed men below and the thunder of their summons at the door.
But they came not, and presently my thought stole back to Elliot, who,
indeed, was never out of my mind then--nay, nor now is. But whether that
memory be sinful in a man of religion or not, I leave to the saints and
to good confession. Much I perplexed myself with marvelling why she did
so weep; above all, since I knew what hopeful tidings she had gotten of
her friend and her enterprise. But no light came to me in my
meditations. I did not know then that whereas young men, and many lasses
too, are like the Roman lad who went with his bosom bare, crying "Aura
veni," and sighing for the breeze of Love to come, other maidens are
wroth with Love when he creeps into their hearts, and would fain cast him
out--being in a manner mad with anger against Love, and against him whom
they desire, and against themselves. This mood, as was later seen, was
Elliot's, for her heart was like a wild bird trapped, that turns with
bill and claw on him who comes to set it free. Moreover, I have since
deemed that her passion of faith in the Maid made war on her love for me;
one breast being scantly great enough to contain these two affections,
and her pride taking, against the natural love, the part of the love
which was divine.

But all these were later thoughts, that came to me in musing on the
sorrows of my days; and, like most wisdom, this knowledge arrived too
late, and I, as then, was holden in perplexity.

CHAPTER VIII--OF CERTAIN QUARRELS THAT CAME ON THE HANDS OF NORMAN LESLIE

Belike I had dropped asleep, outwearied with what had befallen me, mind
and body, but I started up suddenly at the sound of a dagger-hilt smitten
against the main door of the house, and a voice crying, "Open, in the
name of the Dauphin." They had come in quest of me, and when I heard
them, it was as if a hand had given my heart a squeeze, and for a moment
my breath seemed to be stopped. This past, I heard the old serving-woman
fumbling with the bolts, and peering from behind the curtain of my
casement, I saw that the ways were dark, and the narrow street was lit up
with flaring torches, the lights wavering in the wind. I stepped to the
wide ingle, thinking to creep into the secret hiding-hole. But to what
avail? It might have served my turn if my escape alive from the moat had
only